Shifting Sands
by Suchen nach
Summary: Heroes were a nice thought, a person saving you just in the nick of time so that you don't really have to be courageous. A hero is a person that is looked up to, children want to be them. It was a nice thought but heroes belonged in fairy tales and bedtime stories. Heroes did not exist, I was not a story come to life, I was not a hero and I didn't want to be.


I shifted slightly to relieve the cramping that had occurred from crouching in one position for too long.

_Come on._

The house in front of me had gone dark a while ago but there were still other people walking to and from the many taverns scattered around the city. It would not do for one of them to see me when I ran across the road. I looked up at the sky from my position behind a couple of crates being careful to avoid the nails that stuck out at precarious angles and watched as a cloud covered the splinter of moon visible in the night sky.

_NOW!_

I shot up from my position and darted across the street and up and over the windowsill that I had scouted out and unlocked earlier in the day. As my feet touched the stone floor I scampered to a dark corner in the smallish room and listened to see if my actions had raised any alarms. A minute passed and nothing, I sighed to relieve the tension that always built up when I was on a job.

I turned my attention to the room around me and smiled.

_Now, if only I could loot a family like this all the time,_ The grin that stretched across my face at the thought may have been described as a little wicked.

A creak of the house shifting on its foundations brought me back the task at hand. I looked around once more and decided at which corner to start at. A shift and glimmer made my attention turn to the left of the room where two silver white daggers lay on top of an aged wooden table.

I creeped across the room on silent feet and lightly picked up one of the beautiful daggers. Just a foot and a half long they would be perfect for sliding between a mans ribs. I ran a finger along its edge and frowned as I realized how dull they were. For craps sake! The dagger probably hadn't been sharpened and oiled for years. A wetstone would take care of that easily but it sickened me slightly that the people who owned such fine daggers thought them so commonplace they didn't even take good care of them!

_Well then I would just have to relieve them of their burden,_ I thought maliciously.

My old daggers had been pieces of crap and had literally been falling to pieces. If I had ever used them in a real fight they would have splintered and I would have likely lost a hand.

Shaking my head of loose thoughts I almost chuckled as I strapped the daggers to my now not so empty leather sheaths on either side of my hips.

_God, the thrill of just taking what I wanted instead of suffering in filth and poverty!_

I glanced around the room again and noticed a few candlesticks that looked like they had a good portion of gold in them. I strode across the room and headed over to them before a glint of light forced my gaze away from my prize and toward a corner of the room that I had overlooked. My brows furrowed and I wrinkled my nose.

In the corner almost hidden by barrels and crates stacked around it was an oval rock that was a foot long and half a foot wide.

_That could be worth quite a bit._

I glanced once more at the candlesticks before decided to at least just take an appraising look at the big rock.

Reaching out to touch it I noted that it didn't feel rough and I couldn't feel any chisel marks.

Odd. Even the best of stone workers had small imperfections in their work, it just wasn't possible to make a rock this perfect, this smooth. Washed out sand was what I thought when I looked at the color of it. Not quite gold and not quite silver it didn't do much to impress me. I picked it up and noted that that it didn't weigh quite as much as I had expected it to.

If I decided to take it, it would take up precious space in the single pack that I had brought with and I would have to take it to an appraiser to guess its worth. A bad decision to make if you didn't know the right people. All in all it wouldn't be a smart move to take it but something stilled my hand as I went to put it back down.

I had never come across something like this before and I would probably never come across something like it again. It was most likely made by magic it could be worth a small fortune, emphasis on the could, but was it worth it to take that chance? Still, I couldn't just seem to put it back down.

With a sigh of defeat I started to open my pack but stopped as I heard a solitary squeak coming from the rock.

I fumbled and almost dropped it before managing to catch it in both hands. Another, louder squeak, sounded and a rumble from inside of the rock made it shake in my hands.

_What the bloody hell is this thing!?_

The thing started to shake harder and harder, I looked around again at the storage room I was in listening to see if the occupants could hear the ruckus this, this _thing_ was making. All was quiet.

With the loudest squeak yet and a mighty shake the rock spiderwebbed into thousands of hairline fractures. I shakily put the thing down and hesitantly reached out a hand to lift a small piece away. I bowed my head and slowly peaked inside where a mass of fleshy like substance the same color as the shell was seeming to breathe.

_The rock was an egg._ I abruptly realized.

Whatever was inside of the egg shifted a final time before letting out a small rumble and the egg finally cracked and fell off of it, or should I say fell off of the dragon hatchling.

I stared into the pale lavender eyes of a dragon hatchling, and let out a breath I had been unknowingly holding.

It was amazing, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. All thoughts of my thieving had left my mind in fact nothing else seemed to matter anymore, nothing was more important than looking at this hatchling as it stumbled towards me on unsteady legs. I reached out my hand to steady it but when I touched it a sharp burning pain wrapped around my fingers and shot into the center of my being.

Gaah! I yelled and fell ungracefully backward onto my backside, the dragon hatchling was shaking its head as if it had felt the same thing. I still felt wonderment when gazing at it but the shock of touching it had made me realize that I could hear something banging down the hallway.

Shit! I tore open my satchel and rid it of anything that I had stolen that day, thieving was my life it not only allowed me to live and buy the food that I needed I also enjoyed it but as I dropped the baubles and trinkets I felt no remorse. The dragon was so much more important now.

The footsteps were echoing down the hallway now, much closer than before.

"Anyone in there!" A male voice yelled. "C'me out where I can see ya, ya lousy thief!"

My hand reached out for the dragon and at first I thought it would shy away or snap at my hands but to my great surprise it rubbed its head against one of my hands like a cat and allowed me to pick it up. My heart swelled with affection at the act I had only been with this creature a mere five minutes at maximum and already I couldn't imagine life without it. My previous existence seemed so dull and lonely now.

I gently placed the hatchling into the rucksack and when it squeaked I gently shushed it. Almost immediately it found a comfortable position in the cloak I had stashed in there from earlier and went to sleep.

My head snapped to the door as the footsteps stopped just outside of it and I heard the clink of the man searching his keyring for the right key.

"I'm comin in ya hear me!" He was furious now that he had realized which room I was in.

"When I get my hands around yuh I'll wring yer theivin' neck!"

I could almost see the veins that would be bulging out of his forehead and neck.

Roughly eighteen years of thieving and the one time I find something truly magnificent I get caught what a bloody joke!

I was out the window and across the street faster than I had ever gone before. I knew that he had finally managed to open the door when I heard the yell of rage at the missing egg, and daggers I thought belatedly.

I half-grinned at his frustration, just another perk at being a thief was listening to the rage of the people being stolen from, the rich bastards pain brought me a kind of sick joy all of my stealing brought me joy.

A chirp from my bag brought my attention to more important matters, like how incredibly hungry I was. Although that didn't sound right, I had just eaten not too long ago I shouldn't be this hungry. The urge to eat felt double-toned and almost echo like, like it wasn't quite my hunger but like something else was influencing me to be hungry.

Another, louder, chirp made me realize that I wasn't hungry, the _dragon_ was.

Holy crap! Sweet, mother of elves! We had a mind connection thingy.

Another stab of phantom hunger drove me to think about the dragon first and freaking out about mind powers later.

I had gone straight to the alley way that I had been crouching in earlier, a familiar place was better than trying to search for a new one while I had been fleeing from the angry home owner.

The only place I could think of that had food at this hour would be my personal hideout and even then I only stockpiled enough food for one meal at a time. A loud rumble from the baby dragon made up my mind for me, a couple pieces of jerky would just have to be enough for now.


End file.
